


Backstage Pitch Pail

by Ariamaki



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulge Sucking (Homestuck), Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), F/F, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rap Battles, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29390217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariamaki/pseuds/Ariamaki
Summary: In the long leisurely years that come after an intertwined series of SBurb and SGrub sessions well-won (for given definitions of both 'well' and 'won'), the victors and even the losers are enjoying their immortal free time.Somehow, and we know at least one Strider must be to blame, this means occasional freestyle rap battles.After a bit of a heated session on the stage, Nepeta and Vriska get into an argument that turns into something significantly more heated. Neither of them is known for spades, but under the right circumstances, you'd be surprised what a Rogue and a Thief can get up to after-hours...
Relationships: Nepeta Leijon/Vriska Serket
Kudos: 7





	1. Step To the Mic

The overhead lights went down to near-dead and in the silence that followed, footsteps hit the stage floor. One soft click after another until the red curtain was brutally marred by the switch from LED off-white to a very _particular_ shade of blue. The lone troll on-stage took the mic in her hand, and a beat came down from the speakers all around. A pause, a breath...

_Spiderbite_  
_Vicegrip tight_  
_All the luck and all the light_  
_Follow me across the cays we'll sail the twentyseven seas_  
_Alight upon the beach at night, we sight the site of our gravesite_  
_Dig the holes and pile them in, put cold dirt over our sin_  
_A darker rhyme for darker times, a slicker line for simpler minds:_  
_I kill the verse like I kill your grubs_  
_You want revenge? Get owned like scrubs_  
_The eightfold vision and my blessed precision_  
_No flushin' no pitchin'_  
_No romance in my kitchen_  
_Just diamonds for me, put my TZ on the mic_  
_Coming up next to schoolfeed you like a tyke_  
_Obliterated by the scourge of my words, I hit a nerve_  
_Send you stumbling to one knee_  
_So you can rightly obey me_  
_Take you down with silk and dice_  
_Won't be freed by strike or slice_  
_Nothing gets you outta my web_  
_To use it on you would insult the word 'pleb'_  
_Lowblood or highblood?_  
_To me it never matters:_  
_The color's not critical,_  
_just the way that it **splatters**._  


Vriska cleared the stage to the echoing laughter and applause of her audience ( _almost overridden entirely by Terezi's dry cackle_ ), throwing a bow here and there as she walked. Freestyle had never really been her macerated-flavor-spread, but everybody around here just 8 it up! The competition was pretty damn stiff though, although watching her moirail mount the stage next gave her time to relax. Pyrope had never taken slam poetry serious on any level, for similar reasons to Vriska: As the Scourge Sisters they didn't have any opponents worth the time, and during the Game the Imps and other constructs didn't respond well to it.

This hadn't really become a ha8it until Zahhak and the two Striders had gotten caught up into some kind of terrible roboticism / homoeroticism bender. The three sweaty idiots ( _the brothers Stri being too self-admittedly cool to sweat, with Equius making up for lost slime_ ) came back to the group with the idea of doing freestyle battles on Earth C as a way to maintain the more... portable aspects of Alternian culture. Vriska scoffed at that initially, but after dropping in to torment the Rose human during one particular event... Well, it had its hooks in her.

There was something thrilling to her about maintaining some of that vicious and vindictive edge, being able to keep her bravado at max; not through schemes and battles but with braggadocio and lyrical _force_. No blood was spilled but she could still knock anybody senseless on the microphone, and that appealed to parts of her that had been nearly dormant since their victory.

Now they had weekly shows of one kind or another at this 'space', built in the classical Earth style ( _or so Rose assured her_ ) and designed to merge the best aspects of the lost world's theaters and clubs. Some weeks it was a stage-play, others it was full-blown combat and bloodsport ( _immortal bodies made that a lot more convenient_ ), and sometimes... Well sometimes it was rap battles.

Her reminiscence managed to perfectly cover the length of Terezi's set, which put Leijon up next: Vriska rarely saw her up on the stage solo, since she almost always went for doubles with her own moirail. Not that she'd ever admit it out loud, but the few times the Scourges and Team Cat-Horse went to the cords together... It was a worthwhile challenge. She quieted her mind ( _and several of the nearby chess people_ ) to listen: This was going to be good.

Nepeta flounced and pounced her way on stage, baggy cargo pants and equally-loose black shirt staying more or less unchanged since back on the meteor: She'd never been a troll of fashion, not like fussy-fangs, and even a special occasion like this wouldn't change her ways. Admittedly, the look _fit_ a lot better here, but still! 

The music started up shortly after she hit center stage, and the cat-troll took a moment to focus before bopping her way into the beat: She threw her ass around like a proper dancer with each line and verse, hands moving and swaying to the rhythm. 

_Old-school kitty livin' pretty in the city:_  
_When I say 'meow' you all say 'how'!_  
_Meow, now, brown... cow?_  
_Wait cow? That's my rail's schtick!_  
_It's got nothing on this cat dick:_  
_Stimulating spines and it stands up quick_  
_Nepeta, Leijon, shipping dusk 'til dawn_  
_Making your queen into her purring lil' pawn_  
_Got Vriskers on my whiskers, Karkat where my ass phat_  
_Throw my cattail around 'til y'ALL say you want that_  
_...I'm gonna get grounded for rhyming so lewd_  
_Equius'll scream at me until his face is double-blued!_  
_Don't care about it, I'll just sit in my cave_  
_Drawing smut on my walls with the blood of the grave_  
_Bury many hunting kills to mark all of my loving thrills_  
_Putting beasts in the ground since the day I was made_  
_Made in a meteor lab by my man Karkitty, isn't he pretty,_  
_Bringing this rhyme back to the start? So witty_  
_I'm Nepeta and I'm out: You can kiss my green titty!_  


She'd planned to think about it objectively and really try to rate the other girl's skill, but once she heard her own name ( _for given values_ ) and the verse around it... Vriska just _seethed_ , running that line back in her head over and over again. That had been the last set of the night, and by the time she regained her composure the other trolls were mostly filing out, the humans nowhere in sight, and Nepeta was just now getting down off the stage... Perfect timing for Vriska to go vent the burning hate in her veins.

You'd think the Rogue and Thief of a party as big as theirs would be in pretty tight cahoots but that was never the case. Vriska clearly scared Nepeta at least a little and... well Vriska sure as hell didn't _respect_ Equius. She _acknowledged his strength_ to the point where she never laid a single digit on his 'meowrail'. But that was in the past, during the game and for a little while after. Right now? Nepeta had clearly gotten over her fright enough to crack jokes like _**that**_ , and Vriska...

The crisp _smack_ of palm on face shut the room up faster than mic feedback ever had. Nepeta fell back from the impact, raising one hand up to her cheek with a confused ( _and then blood-flushed_ ) expression. Equius wasn't present or Vriska would likely already be in a Strife, but the other trolls decided to just give them some space and picked up the shattered pieces of their conversations.

Vriska put on her best sneer and looked down at the palm-print on Nepeta's 'pretty' face.

"You sure must feel pretty confident about those nine lives Leijon, pussyfooting up there and making out with me as if we pail."

Nepeta blinked at that, more owlishly than catlike, and eventually cracked a smile.

"Um. Purrasing?"

Oh _gog_. Yeah she had just...

"... _Make it out to be_ as if we pail."

Now Nepeta wasn't the only one with her blood-color filling her cheeks, and the blue blush might have been what gave Vriska's target the confidence to bite back.

"Well I dunno _Vriskers_ , maybe I just wanted to make a good rhyme and you're the only one who fits with whiskers? Plus... for somebody who rapped about not needing any romance this is _awfully_ pitch of you. Publically calling me out, a 8itchslap, should I be preparing the pail after all?"

Vriska's blue flush got deeper and she began looking for an angle to either end this conversation or move it elsewhere: The stragglers had gone quiet again and started staring at them.

"That slap _and_ that cussing-out were both purely pl8onic!"

"Sure, shfur, whatever you say."

The catgirl started walking away dismissively, although from the way her tail bounced in perfect time with Vriska's clenching fists you'd almost think she planned it.

That's how the two of them ended up sashaying and storming ( _respectively_ ) back through the venue, up past the stage stairs, and into the back. Eventually the highblood had enough and shoved the smaller girl into a wall. Nepeta looked up at her with weirdly calm eyes and... Either the catgirl really worked up a sweat dancing on that stage or she was panting for _other_ reasons.

" _Awfully_ pitch, Vriskers."

The spidertroll swung a fist while her target ducked under it with a step forward. Shame that step made her trip over some luckily-misplaced wiring. She stumbled, falling to her knees. Now with nobody here to call her on it Vriska didn't feel as bad leaning over the smaller, lower-blooded troll... While ignoring the view down her shirt this position gave. Nepeta didn't bother moving or even standing, just looking up at her with those ridiculous eyes and that _stupid_ hat.

"Jeez, what are we gonna do on the floor? It'd be a shame if we got walked in-on in such an old-fashioned position."

There was no need to ask what was 'old-fashioned' about this: A greenblood on her knees with a cerulean leaning over her? The only things missing were the Mindgrip and a leashed collar, and this would be an illustration right out of Vriska's ancestral diary. 

Not that it _had_ illustrations. 

She'd checked.

"Real hilarious you'd bring that up: So you _know_ that it means I could walk you out of here under my power and not a single person would ever know."

Nepeta didn't flinch at the threat... Maybe shivered?

"Everyone we know saw us come backstage."

Vriska shrugged, tapping the fingers of one hand against her thigh to keep her hands steady. Steady and _occupied_ , because something about this vulnerable pose of Nepeta's...

"Not everybody: Not the humans at least."

"Heehee! Are you kitten? They're still in the building. Probably back here with us!"

That stopped them both, even Nepeta herself as she really purrocessed what she'd said.

"...How do you know that?"

"Uuumm... Who do you think did all the lighting? And the audio? The mewsic was totally Dave's, we've both heard it before!"

"Sure but I figured he left the disc for some chess people to do the grunt work or something! I... OK. So you're still implying all this and trying to egg me on even _with_ them around? Throw everything else of the side for a minute. I wouldn't have pegged you for the type, especially not in spades."

That got a raise of the brow from the kneeling girl, who was clearly not _un_ comfortable like this.

"Really? Saying I'm not into spades, that I kinda get, but... not the type for some public flirting?"

"I don't bother thinking about romance stuff! _Didn't_ bother. I've got a lot more time now, but... Old habits are hard to 8reak."

"Well let me purrt it this way Vriskers: If the humans catch us? _They can watch_."

Despite having the superior position in so many ways, Vriska was starting to get frustrated. Or at least she was feeling _something_ in her bloodpusher...

"There's nothing for them to catch us DOING!"

Nepeta was grinning like the meowbeast that got the thickmilk as she looked up from below.

"Orly? Beclaws if somebody walked in they'd think we're about to make my lyrics cum true."

Vriska's nails, already resting against her thigh, dug in at the thought of Rose or John watching this exchange. She still wasn't sure if that was frustration or something she didn't want to name.

"I can't _belieeve_ you're sex-punning! The cat stuff is bad enough, but now you're some kind of... frisky kitty? Purrvert?"

"Eeee! _Purrvert_ , that's so good! I gotta write that down for next time."

She tried to stand at that point, but Vriska had come to a conclusion: This was not just frustrating her the way a normal argument with Terezi did. This was making her bile rise and her cheeks hot and her claws drop and _gog_ she wanted to do something about it. So as Nepeta stood she lashed out with one hand, catching her claws right on the collar of the cat-girl's thin black shirt. It ripped clean down the middle before she could stop herself, parting it out like a vest. The fabric fell to the sides, nearly exposing Nepeta's rumble spheres and _totally_ exposing her lack of a jiggleholster.

" _oh_."

"Yeah 'oh' is right, pussy. Back on your knees and let's finish talking about this."

It took every bit of willpower in Vriska's vast pile not to reach down and twitch the halves of that shirt apart, especially when Nepeta kept looking down at her own bare cleavage in disbelief.

"I don't... do romance. Honestly, and you probably know this already with your grids and shit? Keeping my head in the game enough to not fuck things up with Terezi alone takes a lot."

"That's fine! It's like you said furrlier: I'm not really into blackrom stuff myself"

"...Then what's with this?"

Nepeta was smiling again but it had edges this time, edges and fangs.

"I'm not into black _rom_. The relationship part doesn't excite me, not when it's _for_ me. Thinking about somepawdy else's blackrom? Totally! But we're not talking about black **romance** here, are we?"

Nepeta leaned back far enough that she was sitting on her own calves before opening her mouth and letting her tongue loll out across her jaw, creating a wide and inviting passage between her lips. Vriska felt the twitch and shift between her thighs _well_ before she consciously realized the truth: She was unsheathing right inside her pants, barely a handspan away from Nepeta's face.

"We're talking about filling a pitch pail, getting black _in bed_ Jade calls it. And I'm plenty into that: I've got instincts and needs the same as any other troll! So how about you undo that zippurr, get a good grip on my neck, and really make me _earn_ the right to breathe... _Blue-blood_?"

Rather than even try to make a decision with her thinkpan for once, Vriska just dug her nails out of her legs and started working on the 'zippurr' while doing her best to look smolderingly down at Nep... No, not distant enough. At the _nameless_ , pliant little greenblood between her legs.

"You can call me 'Mindfang', pretty kitty... Once you can speak again."


	2. Opening Performance

That would have been the perfect time to thrust herself right into the other troll's face, but Vriska was not some pre-fluffed smutgrub star: Even with their incredibly licentious conversation she was still only partly aroused. Still, that was enough for the catgirl to throw her trademark hat to the side ( _presumably to avoid stains_ ) and start making little grabbing motions.

Vriska popped her jeans off in one smooth motion and let her bulge continue its _own_ smooth motions. An undulation to one side, then the other... It made contact with Nepeta's grasping paws and Vriska had to hold back a hiss of joy. She was very new to this process ( _at least with any troll except herself_ ), but it was best to keep that fact under wraps. Gotta keep the upper hand!

Meanwhile Nepeta had planted _her_ upper hand firmly on Vriska's leg for balance, the other idly stroking and tickling the underside of her bulge. Occasionally a finger would slide a bit further and press against her flaps and nook, but after Vriska pulled away a few times her partner got the message: That could wait. 

Now that her treatment had the bluebulge closer to full size it was clear Nepeta was happy with her purrize: Large ( _according to what they'd seen anyways_ ), while not being too long nor having too narrow of a taper. Moderate yet strong, low-risk and high-reward: Fitting stuff. Well she _did_ tend to take risks, but when that risk was your reproductive organs? Vriska was fine not having a comically-sized 'weapon' like in the movies.

After what felt like agonizing _hours_ , the greenblood girl eventually got one hand around Vriska's bulge and moved the tip towards her mouth. Vriska's mind and her bulge's instincts were united in their desire to just get between Nepeta's lips already, but the catgirl had other ideas. She kept her firm hand around the center of it, barely stroking and giving no quarter. In the end, only the first bit of the tip could push inside without risking some pain.

Which isn't to say there was _no_ pain: Nepeta's other hand raked careless paths up and down the back of Vriska's legs, drawing little beads of blood from the smooth skin and making Vriska shiver. Not the same intensity as the shivers she felt from the heated lowblood tongue wrapped around her cooler bulge, but _still_. The double-teaming was unfair and the slow-play outright cheating.

"If this is really supposed to be non-romantic, why are you worshipping my bulge so thoroughly?"

Nepeta barely pulls back enough to reply, and still leans forwards to lick and lap at her between words, making Vriska gasp and stamp her feet.

"Beclaws I know taking it slow would piss you off!"

She resisted the urge to slap the girl whose sharp feline teeth were even now right next to her bits, and tried to push those black feelings down into the furthest recesses of her bloodpusher.

"Explaining your plans is a really bad way to _do plans_ , kittee _ee_!"

Eight slow head-bobs, taking a teeny-tiny bit more in with every dip, derailed her train of thought entirely and nearly made her scream in frustrated pleasure. Nep was smiling like the meowbeast that got the topmilk, and she was certainly milking _something_ out: Little rivulets of cerulean were starting to well up from Vriska's tip and onto Nepeta's tongue.

"Aww, but see, that's what makes it so furrustrating! I can do it, which makes you mad. Then I can explain it, which makes you even madder. And then I can do it _anyways_ , which should be making you _**real**_ angry!"

"Haaaahhh I swear, you..."

Nepeta reached up with her hand and pulled down at the corner of one eye, making a mocking expression even as she continued to lap and lick.

"Not like you could do anything about me being a tease, right Vriskers?"

Vriska was always the kind of troll who seized the moment as soon as it came: Patience wasn't one of her strong suits. Thankfully it seemed like **planning** wasn't one of Nepeta's: The hand she used in her little gesture was the one that had been restraining Vriska's bulge.

With a sigh that turned into an extended moan, she popped her hips forward hard and fast. Now that she was fully engorged? Her entire length slipped into Nepeta's mouth and squirmed its way down her throat, leaving the greenblood gasping and shaking.

...Correction: Gasping shaking and _moaning_. Maybe the pretty kitty had gotten her wish after all, because she was clearly enjoying every second of this rough treatment. Vriska couldn't help but agree with that sentiment despite herself. The constricting pressure was unreal, the lowblood heat and the wetness, the sticky texture... Her bulge was probably weeping genetic material straight into the other girl's belly now, and that thought just made her hips quake again. Nepeta's lips hit home against Vriska's base as she shuddered and shivered.

In the back of her head ( _currently overwhelmed under all the new and excessive pleasure_ ) she had to give Nepeta some begrudging respect for that triple-layered play... The fact that she had fallen for it made Vriska even angrier, and the fact that she was getting so angry during a spur-of-the-moment fling made her angrier _still_. But the one to top them all? 

The fact that this was the hottest most _incredible_ gog-damn thing she'd ever even dreamed of? 

That made her _furious_.

"Deep breath in a second here kitten: It's your last one for a _whiiiile_."

Vriska shifted her hips back and recoiled her bulge at the same time, slithering up and out of Nepeta's ( _incredible_ ) vice-grip vocal tunnel. The lowblood fell back onto her haunches for a brief second, the tip of the blue-bulge dancing across her lips. Vriska thought she'd have a moment to relax herself before _reeeally_ putting the irons to the fire, but... The way her bulge smeared Nepeta's face with genetic pre-spill made her bloodpusher thunder like gunshots in her chest.

Her marked-up little mark took two slow breaths in and out, before giving the subtlest little nod: If she still had her hat it would be wiggling with the motion. Taking advantage of its absence, Vriska used her hands to grasp Nepeta's curly hair and just _drag_ her face-first, thrusting at the same time. Just as much bulge coming in twice as fast meant that she could _feel_ the smaller girl's abortive gasp of surprise in the contractions of her muscles.

Last time she only held herself still in Nepeta's mouth, letting her bulge's natural coils and twitches do all the work. This time she stayed deep, but started little stirring thrusts to match. It would have been a lot more stimulating to pull _aaaallll_ the way back and then drive herself straight back in, over and over and... But that was exactly the problem: Vriska was getting off on her _control_ of her former teammate just as much as she was the crude physical sensations.

That idea of _control_ kept thrumming and resonating in her pan, even as Nepeta struggled to keep her breathing even. Vriska had no clue how much or how little experience the other girl had with bulges, but it felt amazing regardless. _Sure_ it was her first time with another troll, so maybe she wasn't the best judge, but something about this just kept the bile roiling inside of her. And if she was already this good...

If this had been real black romance she would have just taken exactly what she wanted without another word, because of _course_ that's what her partner would want. She'd probably be put on the opposite side of the culling fork later in the night in that version of events, and it would be deliciously _worth it_... But that was another world. This was here and now, where the greenblood latched onto her crotch was just showing off her skills ' _in bed_ ', to quote the Jade human. So Vriska decided to do something almost completely unfamiliar and asked for permission.

Of course it would be weird if she didn't take a _little_ advantage of the other girl: She waited until the kitty had a ( _paw_ ) hand in her pants, stroking at herself while barely able to breathe. _Then_ she said the words maybe both of them had been waiting for.

"If you don't slow down, I'm t8king control."


End file.
